Pieces of a Puzzle
by SapphireCuatro
Summary: A girl falls asleep...and wakes up in a the middle of a murder mystery! Along with Cain, she must put together all the clues...before she ends up dead. HIATUS.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own Godchild. Only in my dreams.

Anyway, welcome to my very first Godchild fic! Normally, I avoid OCs like the plague, but I made an exception in this case, and I hope you all won't automatically stop reading on account of that.

Anyway, please treat it kindly.

* * *

_Come on, Cain, I believe in you. Come on, I know you'll get through this, because you always do. Oh, wait, why is everything so dark? No, wait--_

"Reagan, what are you doing?!"

Reagan Leigh Bradley nearly dropped the volume of Godchild she was reading. But she recovered in enough time to reply, in a completely serious voice, "I'm doing my English project, Mom! Like I'm _supposed_ to! What do you think I'm doing?!"

"Well, I'm going to check...!"

"You don't even believe your own daughter! God, what does it take to be trusted in this house?!" Reagan yelled back, trying to find the page she'd left off on, "Of _course_ I'm doing my schoolwork! This is a major project!"

"Well, you have a bad habit with procrastination", her mother replied through the door.

"Mom, if I say I'm doing my work, then I'm doing it! Why do you automatically assume I'm lying?!"

"Well, I'll be back to check on you later."

Reagan grabbed a scrap of paper off her desk and used it as a bookmark. She closed the volume and reluctantly set it aside, then confronted the schoolwork in front of her.

In her English class, they were currently studying the Victorian era, and literature of the time. They had to do some research on the time period and then write an essay, accompanied by a poster about one particular aspect of Victorian society--that, and they were reading Victorian literature in class.

Now, that was all well and good, and Reagan had nothing against the Victorian era, but she, personally, would much rather read Kaori Yuki than Charles Dickens.

_Buuuutttt_, it was a major project, and that was a pretty good motivator.

She took a deep breath and looked at the materials in front of her.

Okay, so she needed to pick an aspect of Victorian society...

Cain popped into her head.

Well, she certainly wouldn't mind making a poster full of images from Godchild, but she was pretty sure that would get her a lovely "F" on her stupid project.

Reagan ran a hand through her blonde hair. Her eyes flicked over to Volume Eight, sitting there, Cain's face on the cover, _beckoning_ to her. She hadn't finished reading it yet...it pulled at her...

She opened it to the page where she'd left off, and settled in.

She heard the door knob turn, and without even thinking Reagan threw the volume out of sight.

It was her mom.

"Are you doing your homework?" her mother inquired.

"What's it look like? If I say I'm doing it, then I am. But thanks a lot, Mom. You just interrupted my train of thought. I just had this wonderful vision for the poster in my mind, and now it's gone!"

"Oh, well. I'm sure you'll think of something better."

"What do you want, anyway?"

"You should leave your bedroom door open. It will help the air circulate better."

_Air circulation...?_ Everything about that invited a nasty retort, but Reagan decided against it, considering that she wanted her mother out of her room as soon as possible.

She looked, again, at the materials in front of her.

_Maybe I should just go ahead and do the essay..._

Ok. So she had to write about how Victorian society influenced writers of the time. That was easy enough, right?

That's what she'd originally thought! What a foolish assumption!

_How am I supposed to know anything and their society and how it impacted them? I doubt even the Victorians knew. You don't recognize things about your own society because you're living within it. The only reason we can judge them is because we're on the outside looking in. I mean, this is the stupidest project ever, because no one would know more about Victorians than Victorians, and they're all dead! _

Little progress had been made by the time Reagan's mother came in and told her that she needed to "go to bed because it's a school night." Reagan took this as an invitation to stop doing schoolwork and finish of the last volume of Godchild. When she was done, she climbed into bed, scarcely able to comprehend what she'd just read.

...

It was overcast outside when Reagan woke up.

Groggily, she sat up. Just another boring day, with that stupid project on the Victorians waiting in the wings...

Then, she realized something.

This wasn't her room.

She was certainly awake now! Where...where was she?!

She clambered out of the bed and burst out of the room...

...and nearly crashed into somebody.

She was looking at a young man.

A young man with golden-green eyes.

...and that's a wrap! Please review!


	2. The Strangest Dream

I do apologize for the delay in updating. I'll try not to let it happen again.

* * *

Reagan stared into those alluring golden-green eyes.

She blinked.

"This is why I shouldn't eat sweets right before I go to bed."

The young man was about to open his mouth to speak, but Reagan cut him off. "Oh, I already know who you are. You're Cain, the earl of Hargreaves. No need for introductions."

He had a strange look on his face, but she paid him no attention, while she muttered, "Dear God. Well, _this_ is a weird dream. But it'll suck because I definitely won't remember this tomorrow morning. I never remember my dreams. And most of them were good ones, I'm sure…"

Cain was bewildered; Riff (whom Reagan had yet to notice), expressionless.

"What do you think, sir?" queried Riff.

"She seems to be mad. I see why she was hidden away in an upper-story bedroom."

"Hey, don't talk about me like I can't hear you!" Reagan snapped, "For someone who's supposed to be a noble, you're rude! But then, that's how you are, I suppose. It's part of your nature, and I like reading about you, so it's all right, I guess…"

"What is she talking about, sir?" asked Riff quietly.

"I don't know. She knows my name and my title, and yet I am sure that I have never laid eyes on her in my life."

"Oh, Riff, you're here too? Well, I guess if Cain's here, it would make sense that you're here. Is Mary here too?"

"You know our names. Perhaps I _have_ been acquainted with you in the past but can't quite remember", said Cain, "Who are you?"

"Oh, Cain…you…_you_ want to know _my_ name? That's kind of flattering. I didn't think I would have to introduce myself in one of my own dreams, but I'm Reagan Bradley."

Cain didn't recognize the name, obviously. Although, he and Riff both thought that Reagan was an odd name for a girl. But they didn't say anything.

"You already know me, but I'm not acquainted with you. Do tell me about yourself, Miss Reagan."

"Um, okay, if you want me to. Like I said, my name is Reagan Bradley. I'm sixteen years old, and I'm from the United States, and--"

"You're American?" queried Cain.

"Oh, yes, I'm--" She turned about suddenly. "Say that again."

Cain looked at her curiously.

Reagan felt a flush creeping over her face. _Oh my God…in my dream…his voice…I never imagined his voice sounding like this when I was reading…he…in my dream, he even has a British accent…! _

_Oh God, how stupid am I? Why didn't I think of giving him an accent before?! _

She looked at him, feeling her cheeks burn. _That hair…those eyes…and that voice…! God, it's not even right for someone to be so good-looking! God…standing before someone who looks like that…I must look…even if it is a dream…_

She tore down the hall. _Why? I've never dreamed about him before. Is it because he's from the Victorian era and I have to do that stupid project for school? _

There was a mirror in the hall, and she ran past it. Then she stopped, turned around, and looked at herself.  
She backed against the far wall, her heart pounding. _Dear God. That's not me. That's not me. That's…that's a manga character…with blonde hair…and blue eyes…_

She touched her face. She looked at herself, up and down. _I look perfectly normal to myself. I'm completely three-dimensional. Yet, when I look in the mirror, I look like something out of one of Kaori Yuki's books…is this how I appear to others?_

_Oh, and here I'm in my pajamas and everything, with tousled hair…dear Lord! Even if this is a dream, I don't want people to see me looking like this! _

_And of all people to dream seeing me like this…Cain. Wow, am I stupid. _

She opened the numerous doors in the hallways, but none were particularly interesting.

She finally found what looked like an empty dressing room. _It looks like it hasn't been used in a while…_

She rummaged through the dresser drawers. There was makeup and powders, pins and hairbrushes.

_Using other people's brushes is kind of gross, but this is an emergency. Besides, the owner obviously doesn't miss it. _

She fluffed out her blonde hair when she was done brushing it. _Well, that's that. After I find some clothes, I can go find Cain and Riff again. _

The room adjoining hers was a bedroom. She crept inside. _This looks like it hasn't been used in a while, either. _

It was quite a fancy and elegantly furnished room. Whoever owned this house was obviously quite wealthy.

This room was starting to give her the creeps. It had the air of being occupied, and yet it was clear that no one had called this bedroom theirs for a long time.

Right?

And yet…there was something about this room.

She opened the closet door. It was filled with clothes. Women's clothes.

_So someone does live here. Maybe she went on a trip or something? _Gently, she stroked one of the dresses. _Wow, this seems really authentic. And it's really pretty. _

Reagan looked around the room as though truly seeing it for the first time. _This whole room is pretty. And huge. _

She went over to the bed. _I mean, dude, look at this! _She sat down. _Dreams are supposed to be your subconscious trying to tell you something, right? Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me I should have been doing my project on Victorian England instead of reading the last volume of Godchild. _

_Stupid subconscious! You're supposed to be on my side! _

She couldn't help but shake off the odd eeriness that seemed to hang over this room. _Something's not right_. She looked at the dresses in the closet with a new sort of horror. _I thought there was something weird. It's clear that no one's lived here for a while. And yet…things feel as though they've been disturbed recently. The bedsheets are a little off. The dresses seem like they've been messed with. Things are just a little…off. _

She got off the bed. _I don't like this. It feels like there's someone else in the room. Is there a peephole in here or something? Or is there really someone else in the room, watching my every move? _

She looked around the bed. _They're always by the bed. _

She looked over the side of the bed closest to the wall.

She stared, uncomprehending, a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed.

_Oh…my…there's a person. There's a real person there. But…oh…no…it can't be…a…a real…dead person…? No…_

_This…isn't a dream anymore. It's a nightmare. _

I hope I didn't do too bad a job with Cain (for an initial introduction). If you think I got him OoC, please tell me, and I'll try to set him straight in the next chapter.

And I know Reagan might seem kind of spacey now, but bear with me.


	3. A Mysterious Murder

Well...here's Chapter 3. I hope people will actually review this time.

* * *

"_You_…have a lot of explaining to do! Breaking and entering…and found in the forbidden room with a member of our staff, murdered!"

"You see, that's where I'm starting to think we have a _huge_ misunderstanding. I didn't know that room was forbidden, and I didn't murder that woman! And the breaking and entering--okay, I don't really have an excuse out of that one, but the other two statements are completely true…!"

"Unhand that girl, if you don't mind."

"Oh, Lord Cain!" said the butler who had Reagan's arm in a vice grip, "I'm terribly sorry, sir, there's no need for you to get involved in this--"

"What do you think you're doing, manhandling my guest?"

The butler looked surprised. He looked at Reagan, then at Cain. "This girl…she's a guest of _yours_?"

_I know I shouldn't be complaining since he's getting my sorry butt out of trouble, but he is such a liar_, thought Reagan.

"Lord Cain…I will her release her now only because she's a guest of yours, but I'm afraid I can't let her leave this house until she's spoken to the lord of this house, on account of the mysterious circumstances she was found in…"

"Understandable. Now, please, leave her to me."

The butler released her arm, and Reagan pulled away from him and closer to Cain.

When the butler was gone, he said, "You seem to have gotten yourself in some trouble."

"Why did you do that?" she asked. She avoided looking at him, to prevent potential embarrassment--like, say, running off again and finding a dead body in a room that was supposedly off-limits.

"I'm curious to know the truth."

_Um, okay, let's not be any more cryptic here. _"Well, the _truth_ is, I have no idea what's going on here. What are _you_ doing here, and what am _I _doing here, and what was with the room and the dead person?!"

"You're rather mouthy for a young lady. It could get you in trouble."

She tried to keep her temper down. _This is Victorian times. Proper young ladies do not yell at good-looking young nobles. Proper young ladies speak very…properly. _

"Please do pardon me, good sir", she said, trying to do a British accent, "I have been terribly rude. I must humbly beg your pardon for my insolence towards someone of your stature, Lord Cain." _That sounded good!_

"Why are you speaking like that?"

_Wha--?! Is he talking about the speech pattern or the crappy accent? _

"Tell me, Miss Reagan", he said more quietly, "Are we acquainted?"

"Acquainted? Well, not exactly. Well, I mean, we've never met in person, if that's what you mean. We…we have heard stories of you even in America!"

"Do all Americans dress so strangely?"

She was still in her pajamas.

_Yeah, when we go to bed. _"That's all I was doing, see! Looking for clothes! That's why I went in that bedroom!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Why?"

…

"I must thank your lord for dressing my companion."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, Lord Cain. No one in this house could let the companion of someone as esteemed as yourself go around dressed like _that_."

_They're talking about me. They're talking about me like I can't even hear them. _Reagan burst out of the room. "All right, enough with the gossip."

Cain looked at her, and she felt her cheeks growing hot--again. _I've got to stop getting embarrassed every time he looks at me. _

_God, though…how did Victorian women even function in clothes like this? This stupid corset…it feels like my whole chest is being compressed. I can't ever take deep enough breaths. And these skirts…I'm so afraid I'm going to trip and fall on my face, I've always been a klutz…_

"Now she looks presentable", said Cain.

Oh, and I didn't before? Thank you so much, Cain…

"Of course, we weren't aware that she was your companion", said the servant, "And we have no desire to cause trouble with the head of the Hargreaves family, but the fact that she was discovered in the forbidden room…I don't think my lord will be able to overlook that…"

"Why's it forbidden?" asked Reagan, "It looked like just an ordinary woman's bedroom." _The only thing abnormal was finding a murder victim, but…_

The servant looked uncomfortable. "Oh…well…you see…that's the bedroom of Miss Charlotte…my lord's beloved younger sister."

"Well, where is she?" asked Reagan.

The servant was acting like a cornered rabbit, searching desperately for an escape route.

"…I shouldn't say."

"No, please do tell what happened to Miss Charlotte", said Cain.

"She…she vanished three years ago. Without a trace. We…we're afraid she's dead. But…my lord chose not to see it that way. Because no one ever even found a body. So there's no proof that she's dead. So…he…in his mind, she's gone on a trip abroad. So no one's allowed in her private bedroom. No one at all."

"But there _was_ someone inside, obviously", said Reagan, "Before I went in there, I mean."

"Well…people do go in there occasionally to maintain it, but…"

_But someone's committed murder. A murder victim is found in a room that's supposed to be off-limits…the bedroom of some lord's younger sister, who supposedly vanished…this is a regular Sherlock Holmes mystery, huh? Figures. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I have a bizarre imagination, to come up with this stuff. Ah, well. I suppose we just have to put together the pieces of this puzzle and solve the mystery. I suppose that's why Cain's here with me. Because he's good at solving murder mysteries. _

"All right, then", said Reagan, "Then I guess I have no choice." To the servant, she said, "Come on, then. Despite being a guest of Lord Cain here, I'm sure your lord will still want an explanation for why I was in his dear sister's room with a murder victim. So I would like to go and offer it. Please, I would like to meet him."


	4. The Older Brother

Sorry for the loooong delay in update. This chapter isn't too long, but it's important.

So anyway, I'll try to update sooner next time.

* * *

"Our lord would like to speak with the girl…alone."

"Very well", Cain replied.

He had accompanied her this far. Reagan wasn't quite sure why, but she didn't question it either.

Now, it occurred to her that she was about to face the lord of the house, the older brother of the sister whose off-limits bedroom Reagan had unknowingly entered.

Alone.

There was no getting out of this one.

She went in the room, alone.

The person in question had his back turned to her.

She heard the door close behind her.

He turned around. He was quite young, probably not much older than Reagan herself, and blonde-haired and blue-eyed.

"I understand that you're a guest of Lord Cain", he said.

_His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him. _"Yes."

"Still. I would like to hear why you were found in my sister's bedchamber. It is forbidden, even to guests."

_Um, does he even care that there was a dead body in there? _

"I apologize. I wandered in there entirely by accident."

"It is inadvisable to explore."

_Yeah. I figured that out, thanks. _

"You would do well to stay away from there from now on", he said.

"It may be out of place", she said, "But when was the last time you heard from your sister?"

He regarded her with deep suspicion.

"It's been some time, hasn't it?"

He didn't respond.

"You must be worried terribly."

"Get out", he said finally, "I won't have another person trying to tell me she's dead."

"I never said she was dead!" Reagan replied, "But she may be in trouble. I want to help you. I want to help you find your sister."

"…what is it you want?"

"Um…nothing, really." _I just want an excuse to snoop around and find out more about what's going on. _

"Hmm…is that so?"

"Y…yes."

"You're so arrogant! What do you think I've been trying to do all this time? What makes you think that _you_ can find out what's happened to my sister when I myself haven't been able to?!"

She hadn't been expecting the soft-spoken young man to suddenly snap at her.

_This situation is getting bad. Damn, I'm stupid. I should never have brought up the sister. Crap, now how do I get out of this…? _

"I'm a detective."

His facial expression changed.

_Well, at least he's not angry anymore. _

"_You_? A woman, a detective?"

"It's a bit of a talent of mine, as hard to believe as that may be."

"…what is your name?"

"Reagan Bradley." _Wait, he's a noble, right? _"Sir."

"…and I am Lord William Turner, as you already know."

"Nice to meet you", Reagan replied.

"I hope that your time staying here is enjoyable!" he said.

_Hold on a minute! Now he's all cheerful and friendly! What the hell?! _

"Lord Cain is awaiting you out in the corridor, yes? It would be rude for me to keep him waiting any longer. Please, you should go rejoin him."

_In short, he wants me to get the hell out. _"Er, very well. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too."

Reagan wasn't fooled. _This guy…knows way more than he's letting on. _


End file.
